Creatures of Habit
by Pipkin Sweetgrass
Summary: What makes a brother a brother? Could it be a true brother is one of the heart? The importance of memory...and habit.


_Not for profit and the characters aren't mine. This work of fiction is intended only to (hopefully) amuse others and improve my writing skills._

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_**Creatures of Habit**_

_By_

_Pipkin Sweetgrass _

Pippin sat up abruptly. Next to him Merry shifted uneasily but did not wake. The stony ground of Hollin wasn't exactly the most comfortable place to try to catch a few winks anyway and they had to sleep during the day, which Pippin found was of no help whatsoever when it came to sleeping. Not only that, but as they traveled to higher and higher ground, it was getting colder and colder. Pippin was the smallest and most slender of the hobbits, and without any extra weight, he became chilled easily. Pippin sighed and looked enviously at Merry, who seemed to be having no trouble at all sleeping. The youngest of the hobbits decided it was useless to try sleeping any more, and throwing off his blankets, he rose and stretched. The sun was getting low. Soon it would be time to move on.

Pippin looked about and counted heads. Gimli was on watch, Legolas sat nearby watching the day fade once more, Strider lay near Frodo and Sam who were flanked by Gandalf. Where was Boromir?

Pippin liked Boromir, and Boromir had been quite kind to him and very patient with his pranks, and had even begun to look forward to Pippin's more amusing antics. The warrior sought out the companionship of Pippin and Merry and quite enjoyed their company, especially enjoying the small talk of their lives back home. Pippin often felt Boromir was even a little envious of the quiet lives of hobbits, though he would never say so.

Pippin had formed a habit of keeping an eye on the big Man. He was quite interesting, and so completely different from anyone Pippin had known that the youngest hobbit had formed this habit of Boromir-watching in much the same way as some folk enjoyed watching birds. His admiration of Boromir had grown into something a little warmer and he now regarded Boromir as a friend and was sure the sentiment was returned. Boromir was always patient with him and enjoyed telling Pippin tales of great battles.

He also shared many tales of his boyhood in Gondor, and Pippin never tired of hearing them. He had even taught Pippin a word-game called "The Queen's Cats" in which one must give a one-word description of the cats, starting with "The Queen's Cats are…" Then the next player must supply a word describing the cats in alphabetical order, such as "The Queen's cats are agile cats." The next player then had to supply a descriptive starting with a 'b', the next descriptive starting with a 'c', and so on. It was a favorite pastime with the Man and the pair of hobbits. Yet another habit they had developed, and some found it a bit irritating, but the three never seemed to grow weary of the game. Yes, the three had become good friends, and seemed to grow closer day by day. So when Pippin woke and found Merry still soundly sleeping, Pippin immediately searched for the whereabouts of his large friend.

Pippin saw him a little distance away. As the sun set, Boromir gazed quietly into the west. As the light faded completely, he seemed to bow his head. Pippin approached him and called out quietly so as not to startle the Man. He had learned the hard way that startling Boromir could have some rather unpleasant consequences.

He had noticed Boromir doing this a few times, facing the west as the sun set, and had walked up behind the warrior to see what he was looking at. Pippin had trod on a twig, and Boromir had whirled about so swiftly it made Pippin dizzy to see it. Boromir's sword seemed to leap into his hand of it's own accord. He apologized profusely to Pippin so sincerely that Pippin had no doubt it was a genuine apology and not one made simply to smooth ruffled feathers.

"Do give me a warning next time, Pippin," he had said. "I've grown accustomed to being wary, and I would not injure you accidentally if I could help it. I suppose it is a habit with me, to ever be wary of an enemy sneaking up behind me."

"Have you any more habits I should know about?" asked Pippin saucily. "I should be grieved to have my head parted from my shoulders, so perhaps you should tell me now how I can avoid such an inconvenience!"

Boromir had laughed, which is what Pippin hoped for. Pippin liked to make folks laugh when he could, for he was of the opinion that laughter is the song of the soul. Boromir seemed so grim and sad that Pippin felt he needed laughter more than anyone else in the Fellowship. He and Merry had reaped the benefits of Pippin's little jests, japes and tricks; more and more Boromir sought out their company, and the three were found most often together. Like a rope of twisted strand, the three seemed to be all the stronger for it.

"Hoy!" Pippin called. "There you are again, looking west at sunset."

Boromir looked over his massive shoulder, and his face brightened. Pippin had taken note that he often had this effect on the warrior. "Come, Pippin! Come and watch the sun sinking to seek her bower. She has had a long day, and must be quite tired by now."

The hobbit sat beside his friend, and they quietly watched the sun dipping below the horizon. The air was growing chill now and Pippin shivered. Without a word, Boromir flicked the edge of his cloak about Pippin's shoulders. He did so without seeming to patronize Pippin, and Pippin was grateful. He felt Boromir quite worried about his well-being, but this small act demonstrated that he respected Pippin's dignity. It was nice to be treated as though he was more mature than some seemed to think.

This emboldened Pippin enough to make him feel he could ask Boromir something without seeming to be a child pestering a grown-up with silly questions. "I cannot help but notice that you do this often, looking to the west as the sun sets. May I ask why?"

"It is a custom with my people. We no longer know exactly why we do it, but we keep the custom anyway. It is a very old custom." Boromir replied.

"May I ask what you think of when you do this?" Pippin asked.

Boromir regarded his small companion, who looked at him with genuine desire to learn. The hobbit was quite curious, Boromir had noted, and meant no disrespect when he asked such questions. Boromir knew this because he had developed a habit of his own: that of Pippin-and-Merry watching.

"An honest question, and one which warrants an honest answer," replied Boromir. "I think of my brother. I know that as I look to the west, Faramir also looks to the west. I find it keeps me from missing him quite so much."

"Then it is a good habit." commented Pippin. "Do you mind very much if I join you? Some day this journey will end. When it does, I should like very much to look to the west at the setting of the sun. I shall know that far away, you are doing the same thing."

"Why, I should consider it quite an honor," said Boromir with a gentle smile. "That would be quite a wonderful habit. And I shall think of you, too, knowing you are looking to the west even as I look to the west with Faramir."

The two sat in silence for some few moments, watching the sun finally dip below the horizon. The last rays of the sun painted the sky with streaks of orange and red, then this, too, finally faded, and the stars painted the sky instead.

"Have you any other habits? You and your brother, I mean," asked Pippin.

"Well, we do have some few habits, my brother and I."

"Really? Do tell me!"

Pippin looked expectantly at Boromir, and Boromir, now accustomed to Pippin's habit of asking a thousand and one questions laughed softly.

"Well, I bite my nails, if that counts."

"Yes, I have noticed that. What about Faramir?"

"Well, he has this one forelock that is forever falling over his eyes, and I have a habit of pushing it back behind his ear. He finds it most irritating."

"Said the Man whose forelock is forever falling over his eyes," retorted Pippin, pushing the stray lock behind Boromir's ear.

"And now we have to participate in another habit, that of walking by night." Boromir said, rising. And Pippin noted yet another habit of Boromir's. He offered his hand to help Pippin up from his stony seat. It was time to move on.

As they strolled back to camp they continued to chat. "You have a habit of looking after for your younger brother, do you not?" Pippin asked.

"Yes, I do. Only fitting, I suppose, as I am his older brother."

"And is anyone in the habit of looking after for you?"

"I do not think," Boromir chuckled, "that I need anyone looking after me."

"But Boromir!" Pippin said impatiently, "Everyone needs someone to look after them!"

"But I have no older brother to do that for me, Pippin."

"Then I shall just have to be your older brother," Pippin said brazenly.

"You? Look after me?"

"Kindly show your older brother a little respect, Boromir!"

Boromir laughed his deep, rumbling laugh. "I apologize, Pippin. I shall have to develop the habit of showing my older brother his due respect."

"Yes, you shall. After all, where would you be without me to look after you?"

The camp was stirring now. Sam was up and about, preparing to break their fast. Gear was packed away, and all too soon the Nine Walkers were once more traveling. It was a journey none would ever forget, and when it was over Pippin would often think of his friend Boromir with fondness and sadness. Many years later, other hobbits would often remark that the Took and Thain had a number of odd habits. Most he could explain, if he was asked about them. One habit he had explained to only one, his wife Diamond. Merry, of course, knew about he habit but never spoke of it, for it was too dear to Pippin to speak of.

The Tooks had always been a rather eccentric family, and many hobbits didn't understand them very much. But they were rather consistent in their oddities, all except the Took and Thain Peregrin, for there never a day passed to night that he couldn't be found sitting alone in his garden as the sun set, looking thoughtfully to the west.

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_**Dedicated to my dear husband Beornomir, who thought "Creatures of Habit" would make a good song title, so I took it and wrote this story. This is for you, my love.**_


End file.
